A Most Exquisite Form of Torture
by redbird57
Summary: Chocolate Covered Cherries Sometimes, he only has to do one little, innocent, thing to drive you crazy.


A Most Exquisite Form Of Torture

A Most Exquisite Form of Torture

Cain hated these state dinners. He hated having to make small talk with people he hardly knew. He hated feeling like he was on display and that everyone was looking at him. Most of all, though, he hated that Ambrose had been seated all the way across the room from him.

Not that it made a difference. Ever since he had his brain restored, Ambrose had hardly said two words to Cain. Cain had the feeling that Ambrose was just being shy, so he had given him his space. But if Ambrose didn't stop avoiding him soon, he was going to have to do something.

Until then, he had to content himself to watch.

He stared. He tried not to be obvious, but he couldn't help it. When he looked at Ambrose, he couldn't breathe. Starring was all he could manage.

Everything Ambrose did, the way he looked at the person speaking to him, the way his mouth moved when he answered, even the way his fingers grasped his water goblet, made Cain want him. Or wish he were that goblet. He couldn't stand it.

"Only a few more hours of this" he thought. The dinner would be over and then he could escape.

They were bringing out desert now but Cain waved the server away. He couldn't concentrate on that. He watched Ambrose play with one of the small dishes of chocolates that were placed randomly on the tables. Chocolate covered cherries. DG apparently loved them and insisted they have them. Cain thought they were messy and sticky and way to much to deal with right now. Especially since Ambrose had chosen this moment to glance in his direction and meet his eyes, but only for a moment. Then he went back to the chocolate he was toying with.

Cain watched as Ambrose deliberately nibbled a hole in the top of the candy, then closed his eyes and sucked out the liquid filling. Cain's eyes got so wide, he thought they might fall out. Ambrose opened his eyes again, and popped the chocolate into his mouth, then looked away with an almost smug expression.

He couldn't have done that on purpose, could he?

Cain jumped when the person seated next to him touched his arm, breaking the spell. "Are you all right, Mr. Cain?"

"Fine", he started, wondering how his voice had gotten so high pitched. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine, I'm just going to go outside and get some air" Or_ burst into flames_.

He backed away from the table, and then, hoping that no one was watching, ran for the door.

Ambrose watched Cain's retreat with an amused smile. He had him on the run.

Cain leaned against the railing, with his head in his hands, wondering how angry the Queen would be if he threw himself into the fountain. He felt like he was going insane, like all the oxygen had been suddenly sucked out of the world, and all he could think about was Ambrose, covered in chocolate and topped with a cherry.

At least it was cooler outside. The wind against his face calmed him down and reminded him to keep breathing. He turned around; eyes closed, and leaned back against the railing. Then a sudden noise almost made him fall back, right off the balcony. His eyes flew open. There was Ambrose, standing in the doorway, smiling innocently at him.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I came out to get away from the crowd" replied Cain.

Ambrose turned and looked at the now empty room. "Ah" was all he said.

"It was hot" said Cain

Ambrose crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the sky as if deep in thought. "And what," he said, looking back at Cain and taking a step closer, "could be making you so hot?"

"I…you…you did that on purpose!" sputtered Cain.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean" replied Ambrose.

"You…" Cain trailed off, wondering why he was suddenly unable to form a complete sentence.

"Yes?" prompted Ambrose.

Cain opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. He couldn't think of anything else to say. What if he was wrong? He didn't want to end up embarrassing them both.

"Good night, Wyatt" said Ambrose, turning away. He walked back into the hall smiling.

"Good night," replied Cain weakly. He really wished he knew what was going on. But if Ambrose wanted to play games, he could play too. It could even be fun. Fine, let the games begin.


End file.
